the glorious eyes were loving him; and they two were there alone
together.

He laughed a deep laugh; then started up like one suddenly awakened from
sleep.

"Oh, God!" He cried, "I cannot wait; I cannot wait! I want to die; I
want to see Him; I want to touch him. Let me die!" He folded his hands,
trembling. "How can I wait so long--for long, long years perhaps? I want
to die--to see Him. I will die any death. Oh, let me come!"

Weeping he bowed himself, and quivered from head to foot. After a long
while he lifted his head.

"Yes; I will wait; I will wait. But not long; do not let it be very
long, Jesus King. I want you; oh, I want you--soon, soon!" He sat still,
staring across the plain with his tearful eyes.

Service No. II.

In the front room of the farmhouse sat Tant Sannie in her elbow-chair.
In her hand was her great brass-clasped hymn-book, round her neck was a
clean white handkerchief, under her feet was a wooden stove. There too
sat Em and Lyndall, in clean pinafores and new shoes. There too was the
spruce Hottentot in a starched white kapje, and her husband on the other
side of the door, with his wool oiled and very much combed out, and
staring at his new leather boots. The Kaffer servants were not there
because Tant Sannie held they were descended from apes, and needed no
salvation. But the rest were gathered for the Sunday service, and waited
the officiator.

Meanwhile Bonaparte and the German approached arm in arm--Bonaparte
resplendent in the black cloth clothes, a spotless shirt, and a spotless
collar; the German in the old salt-and-pepper, casting shy glances of
admiration at his companion.

At the front door Bonaparte removed his hat with much dignity, raised
his shirt collar, and entered. To the centre table he walked, put his
hat solemnly down by the big Bible, and bowed his head over it in silent
prayer.

The Boer-woman looked at the Hottentot, and the Hottentot looked at the
Boer-woman.

There was one thing on earth for which Tant Sannie had a profound
reverence, which exercised a subduing influence over her, which made her
for the time a better woman--that thing was new, shining black cloth. It
made her think of the predikant; it made her think of the elders who sat
in the top pew of the church on Sundays, with the hair so nicely oiled,
so holy and respectable, with their little swallow-tailed coats; it made
her think of heaven, where everything was so holy and respectable, and
nobody